"What's a girl got to do to get a bit of service around here?"

Owen had a blonde in his sights and the spray in his pocket when he caught sight of the redhead shouting for the bartender's attention and decided on a quick change of plans.

Getting her a drink produced a smile, followed by an exchange of names.

Donna Noble. From Chiswick. In Cardiff on a holiday with her friend Cecile, who'd pissed off with some bloke leaving Donna on her own. And it wasn't the first time. Even if it was Donna who'd paid for the tickets and the hotel. Oh no. Donna could tell him stories about what Cecile got up to in Doncaster that would curl his hair. Not that she was a gossip or anything. Although she'd heard things about Madonna and Guy Ritchie, and not just what you read in the papers…

Owen was looking for a space to ask Donna if she wanted to go home with him, but there was no lull. He started to wonder if Donna might actually be some alien who could keep talking indefinitely with out stopping for breath.

Strangely enough, she'd somehow segued from Posh and Becks to UFO's although Owen had missed the transition..

"There's something out there, don't you think?" she asked wistfully.

Now he didn't know if he wanted to give himself a shot of spray and get her home, or take her to Torchwood to find out if she knew anything that might be useful or dangerous.

"There's a hell view from my apartment, if you want to look for spaceships."

Not the smoothest line in his repertoire, but smooth didn't matter anymore.

It took her a second to figure out what he was suggesting at which point she shook her head emphatically.

"I think not. You're nice and all, but…look at you."

Owen had heard turndowns before, but that was a new one. Maybe he wasn't a pretty boy like Jack, but hardly a troll either. He'd actually been hoping not to use the spray, because he wanted Donna to like him for himself, but now he took it out and gave himself a blast, with something that felt like vengeance. He mentally counted to five.

And nothing happened. Or rather something completely unexpected happened. Peals of full-throated, hysterical laughter, leaving Owen feeling slightly humiliated and quite a bit confused. He'd had the spray for ten days and every time it had produced a result.

Donna was still laughing, doubled over and gasping for air.

"All right! It's not that funny."

"Oh but it is. Like you're in one of those commercials for a deodorant and I'm going to come over all in a lather for you just because you spray a bit of stuff. That's priceless. Skinny thing like you. Best laugh I've had in ages. Thanks for that."

"No trouble at all." he muttered, wondering if there was still time to chat up the blonde. She'd slipped away, and honestly compared to Donna, she probably wasn't worth the trouble.

"Oh don't be mad. Does that trick usually get the girls?"

"Actually, yes it does."

"I wish I had something like that."

There was a hint of sadness again. He still liked her, even if nothing was going to happen.

"You want another drink?"

She looked at him through narrowed eyes.

"No strings. I promise. Just talking. You can tell me all about that wench Cecile, or why you think there might be aliens."

"I know there are."

"You can tell me all about it."

Of course, he didn't promise he'd listen to all of it, although tried. Sometimes he just stared at her eyes and sometimes a little lower, but one way or another they found themselves being kicked out at closing time, both of them laughing. Owen had accepted that he was going home alone, and just wanted to thank Donna for what had turned out to be a really fun night, even if wasn't the kind of fun he'd come out looking for.

He aimed for her cheek and either by accident or design she picked that moment to turn just enough to leave him kissing her on the lips. He pulled back quickly, only to catch a sly smirk, or was it a genuine smile?

"I don't need the spray, do I?"

"You never did."